Vaelin’s gaze veered between them, incredulity loud in his voice. “You will sing a song to their leader? Will it kill him?”
“Certainly not!” The Princess stiffened. “I do not take life.”
“Then what? It will . . . transform his soul somehow? Turn an evil man into a good one?”
“No one is truly good. But it will change him.” The Princess paused and raised an eyebrow. “As it will change you, Vaelin Al Sorna.”
“Look at this.” He pointed the arrow at the disassembled corpse nearby. “I imagine you have lived long enough to know what this means. This man, this Darkblade, has enrolled Gifted into his army. They will know what you are. They will sense your gift and kill you before you can voice a note.”
“I don’t think so. I have a sense the Darkblade has a curious mind, not to mention a towering arrogance. He will hear me.”
“Sherin.” Vaelin moved to her, striving to keep any note of anger from his tone, knowing it would only stir her own. “You have to see this is madness. It’s not too late to turn back . . .”
“Oh,” the princess interrupted, shielding her eyes to gaze off to the east. “I’m afraid it is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Vaelin estimated their numbers at around two hundred riders, all armed and armoured though they refrained from drawing blades or levelling lances as they closed in. He resumed his mount and sat with his hands clamped on the pommel of his saddle. “Do nothing,” Sherin had instructed as the dust cloud rose to the east.
The Stahlhast fanned out to encircle them as they drew nearer, closing in on all sides and drawing to a halt at a remove of only a few yards. Vaelin’s gaze slid from one face to another, seeing either the tension of imminent violence or the part-lustful grin of those who enjoy the taste of anticipation.
“Which one is the healer?” one of the Stahlhast asked in accented but passable Chu-Shin. She kicked her horse forward as she spoke. Like the woman Vaelin had seen fall to Nortah’s arrow the day before, she had red hair that swirled like copper threads in the stiff winds of the Steppe.
“I am,” Sherin replied.
The woman’s eyes scanned her from head to toe before moving on to the Jade Princess. “So you would be her, then? The Blessing of Heaven.”
“I suppose I would,” the Princess replied with a small laugh.
The Stahlhast woman grunted and turned her gaze on Vaelin. “We were told there would be only two of you,” she said. Vaelin noted how her eyes snapped from his face to the sword hilt jutting over his shoulder and then back again.
“This man is our escort,” the Princess told her. “A fine and trusty sword to guard two defenceless ladies on their travels.”
“Is that right?” The woman’s features hardened further as she guided her horse closer, eyes still locked on Vaelin’s. “He guard you from the riders sent to fetch you, did he? We found them last night, all cut down and not by the hand of one man.”
“An unfortunate misunderstanding,” the Princess insisted.
“Misunderstanding.” The red-haired woman’s lip curled. “Found my own sister with an arrow through her. Not the kind of arrow used by the Merchant King’s soldiers either. An arrow from far away, I’d say.” She leaned closer, Vaelin maintaining a blank expression as she bared her teeth. “You’re not from the southlands,” she hissed. “And you’re not Stahlhast either. Do they make arrows where you’re from? I’d bet they fucking do.”
The knife appeared in her hand as she lunged closer, Vaelin’s hand gripping the sword hilt and half drawing the blade clear before Sherin’s voice stopped the Stahlhast woman cold. “Kill him and your Skeltir’s son dies!”
The woman’s fingers twitched on the knife handle as she drew in a few ragged breaths before turning her enraged gaze on Sherin. “On the Iron Steppe, bitch,” she grated, “threats are not forgiven.”
“I threaten nothing,” Sherin replied. She swallowed hard but refused to look away as the woman continued to stare. “I merely state the truth. Kill this man and I will not heal your Skeltir’s son.”
The woman straightened, head tilted back as she dragged more air into her lungs. Once a modicum of calm had been recovered, she slid her knife back into its sheath and barked out a short series of what were unmistakably commands to the surrounding Stahlhast in their own language. The entire group immediately turned their mounts towards the south-west and spurred to